


Silhouettes

by capncrystal



Category: Havemercy Series - Jaida Jones & Danielle Bennett
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, Post-Series, holiday decorating, post-steelhands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-03 02:58:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5273909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capncrystal/pseuds/capncrystal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luvander fussed with his scarf before adjusting the pot of tea to refill his cup. “Why should we decorate Yesfir? Yesfir is decorated. If you ask me, we ought to do something about the absolutely miserable state in here. You’ve no holiday cheer at all.” </p><p>Luvander spends his free days at Fae's Books, bothering Raphael. Raphael doesn't mind at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silhouettes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moonix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonix/gifts), [luvanderwon (missbysshe)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=luvanderwon+%28missbysshe%29), [nerakrose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerakrose/gifts).



> A continuation of the 3-sentence fic challenge by Moonix: "Luvander/Raphael, Raphael opens a bookshop next to Luvander's hat shop and all their customers ship them (not technically an AU but a continuation of Steelhands maybe?)"
> 
> "Fae's Books" is a name suggested by Moonix. The title is a song by OMAM that makes me cry a little when I think about Raphael, so.

“How do you intend to keep your shop open,” Luvander asked one drizzly afternoon as he warmed his hands on a cup of tea and watched puffs of steam from passing travelers’ mouths turn them into dragons half-seen through the beads of melted snow on his window, “if you won’t actually sell any of your books?”

Raphael worried at his gloves, warm wool, a gift from Luvander himself until he made like Balfour and worried them to pieces. “It’s just,” he sighed, “I want them to go off to good homes, and these uncivilized brutes don’t know how to treat a good book.” He kept looking down until Luvander tilted his chin up with a finger still warm from the ceramic mug in his hand, and they shared nearly identical somber looks until Luvander pulled a face that made Raphael burst into startled laughter.

“I’m going to go make some tea,” Raphael said when the merriment faded, “Since you’ve managed to drink all of mine.” He plucked the empty blue teapot, pale blue and as utilitarian as the Chief Sergeant who’d given it as a shopwarming gift, from the table and sauntered through aisles of neatly-stacked books to his stock room where a kettle waited. Luvander scoffed but stayed put, sitting in one of the matching plush armchairs close to the mechanical heater and looking out at the miserably snowy street with an air of smugness that suited him far too well. He’d helped Raphael acquire the heater, since open flames in a bookstore had the potential to be disastrous; it occasionally gave off a burning-metal smell that was not unlike dragon-stink and it made them both nostalgic. The shopgirl he’d hired was confident enough to take care of things and give him a full day off every week, which he inevitably spent with Raphael at Fae’s Books, drinking all his tea and offering horrible advice to his customers.

“When will we be decorating Yesfir?” Raphael asked when he came back into the storefront with the fresh pot. His store was not yet as charming as it would be, once he had time to put up imprints and whatever horrendous souvenirs Ghislain saw fit to send him once he went back out to sea. The front windows had some adverts pasted on and there was a quietly ticking clock on his desk, but aside from that, the only decorations in the bookstore were the books he was supposed to be selling but was really just reading. All at once. Even he didn’t know how he kept them straight.

Luvander fussed with his scarf before adjusting the pot of tea to refill his cup. “Why should we decorate Yesfir? Yesfir is decorated. If you ask me, we ought to do something about the absolutely miserable state in here. You’ve no holiday cheer at all.” He paused to sip and Raphael exploited the opening to full advantage.

“I’m not ready yet. I haven’t even decorated for myself, putting up holiday decorations seems like a bad omen, somehow.” He met and kept eye contact with Luvander, who was slowly raising an eyebrow at him. Raphael sipped his tea and refused to look away first.

“How is that a bad omen? It’s perfect. You won’t have to reorganize your current decor, since you actually have no current decor. Honestly, darling, it’s dreary in here.”

Raphael bit back a laugh. “Because if I put up decorations for a season, maybe the store will only stay open for that long?” He shrugged and looked into his tea, smile fading and weariness taking its place. He wasn’t fully recovered from his months in a fishing village- he would never be fully recovered from his months in a fishing village, or from what happened shortly before his months in a fishing village. A healer had told him not to try to be the person he was before, because that version of Raphael was never coming back, but he hadn’t yet built up the strength to become someone else either.

It surprised him a bit when Luvander got up, stood behind him, and wrapped him in a hug. Luv’s limbs were long and deceptively slender, but he was warm and strong and Raphael didn’t realize how much he’d needed to be touched until he was wrapped up in an embrace by a friend who wouldn’t let go. He shook, breath catching embarrassingly, and stayed still for as long as he could before letting go and leaning back. He closed his eyes and felt warm breath in his hair and tried not to come apart at the seams.

“There,” Luvander murmured into messy black curls, thumb brushing Raphael’s clavicle under the collar of his shirt. It sent the faintest shiver through him, easily disguised as another shudder. Hot tea splashed over the rim of his mug and he cursed softly, laughing in the way he did when he sort of wanted to cry. Luvander leaved over him to grab a napkin and wiped his unresisting hand, the way one would to a child or a patient in catatonia. Raphael looked up and stared at him, nonplussed.

“If you aren’t going to wipe up your own messes, perhaps you shouldn’t be trusted to decorate this place after all,” Luvander said archly and perched on the arm of Raphael’s chair, sliding down until they were sharing the same seat, hips squished between the arms of the chair. Raphael squirmed, and so did Luvander, each fighting to be the one to sit on the other’s lap. Raphael cheated first, pinning Luvander’s hand down on the armrest and using the leverage to scoot sideways until he was draped smugly over the other man’s lap.

“Oh, so that’s how it is,” Luvander’s arms wrapped around him again and Raphael sighed, melting into him and sliding his own arm across Luv’s shoulders. “It’s much more comfortable this way,” Raphael grinned, knowing full well it was only comfortable for him. He wasn’t pushed off, though, so he lay his head on Luv’s shoulder and sighed, closing his eyes.

“Have I told you yet what the bakers next door to me have begun putting out for sale?” Luvander began, and didn’t stop talking until Raphael was asleep, lulled into peace by Luvander’s thumb rubbing small circles onto the skin of his hip under his sweater.

~

When he woke up, it was dark and he was decidedly not in his bedroom. He had an unpleasant moment until he placed his surroundings- the couch in his tiny back room, which had boxes of shipping supplies and extra receipt paper and not much else. It wasn’t as cozy as Yesfir, though in fairness he hadn’t had time to make it livable and did not in fact live there. He had a small apartment nearby, smaller even than Balfour’s had been though he had no intention of sharing that information with any of the other airmen aside from Luvander, who’d helped him move in.

Raphael shifted and became aware of something else that was rather alarming- someone else, laying between him and the back of the couch with a slender arm crossed over Raphael’s chest. Luvander made a sleepy snuffling noise that, distressingly, sent Raphael’s heart rate into doubletime.

Despite what the young ladies who shopped at Fae’s Books might think, he and Luvander weren’t cindy for each other; Luvander was enough of a peacock for half the feathers on his hats to come from his own ass, and that might seem effeminate to some, but as far as Raphael was concerned it was an excellent way for the blonde to get his hands onto the lovely and _wealthy_ ladies who frequented his shop. Luvander was pragmatic, that was all.

Raphael, on the other hand, had gone a rather long time without being touched by anybody except Luvander, who touched him constantly as if he still couldn’t believe Raphael was really there and not some ill-placed mirage. He couldn’t visit any of the whorehouses without seeing too many ghosts to make the trip anything but sad, and the ladies who shopped his bookstore were under the mistaken impression that his outrageous flirting was a coverup for his real affections. His body seemed to think it was ready to jump back into the fray and the brushes of fingertips under his shirt whenever Luvander was close enough to touch him were sending the worst kind of signals.

It probably wasn’t intentional. Even in his sleep, apparently, Luvander preferred the feel of bare skin to cotton. Raphael stifled a gasp, purely because Luvander’s hand was cold of course and not because his skin was breaking out into gooseflesh and his traitorous dick was reacting with a well and truly misplaced enthusiasm.

“Sorry,” Luvander muttered, voice thick with sleep. “’S that cold?”

“It’s fine,” Raphael choked out. “Just- fine. Go back to sleep.”

Instead, Luvander lifted himself up and looked Raphael in the face, leaving his hand where it was. “What’s the matter?” His face was a chiaroscuro, lit on one side from the street lamp that shone in through the window, and his voice was honey-rich, still thick and slow from sleep.

Raphael sighed. “It’s been a long time, okay? You’ve got your hand up my shirt,” he raised his eyebrows meaningfully at Luvander, “and it’s been a _very_ long time.” There was a nice long pause at that, Luvander deciding what to say to that and Raphael waiting for him to hurry up and withdraw so they could both go back to sleep. Knowing Luvander, it would be a glib apology followed by mild teasing for a few days and maybe a girl send round to Raphael’s apartment, because it didn’t matter what promises Luvander made not to interfere, sometimes he just couldn’t resist.

“Do you want me to stop, or should I reach a bit lower?”

Hold on, what?

Raphael gulped, thinking fast. “Either let go, or get me off,” he grinned, wondering just how far this game would go. “Just stop teasing, you’re driving me mad.”

There was a split second of time between words and action that allowed Raphael to realize the enormity of his mistake. He’d never been one of the more competitive airmen, preferring to bet on the outcome of the game of the day rather than participate in it. Luvander had been his secret weapon on occasion, since the other airmen had always seemed to underestimate just how far he would go to win the games. Far enough, apparently, to slide his hand down Raphael’s trousers and suddenly banish his ability to think coherently.

The noise he made was loud and helpless and he blushed, squirming under Luvander, unsure if he was trying to get away or press into his hand. They both shifted at the same moment and Raphael, in a stroke of tremendously bad luck, fell off the couch with an embarrassed yelp, dragging Luvander with him. They sort of tangled together with Luvander’s knee on Raphael’s chest and the blanket twisted awfully around them both.

“Hold _still_ , for Bastion’s fucking sake,” Raphael bit out, scooting backwards out of the whole mess, losing a sock in the process. He was flustered and more than half-hard, his hair an unholy mess around his head and the fucking floor was concrete under his knees, though it may as well have been ice.

“I’m not sure who told you it’s good manners to wriggle like that when getting off, but they lied,” Luvander retorted, standing and shaking out the blanket. “It’s atrocious. I’m amazed you weren’t banished from the fans.”

“I wasn’t.. I.” Raphael used the couch to climb up, horrifyingly awkward. “I was surprised.” He watched as Luvander draped the blanket over the couch and tucked it in, feeling a twist in his gut.

“You were surprised.” Luvander crossed his arms and regarded him, or the shadow of him. “Do you want to stop, then?”

“I, ah. I did not. I didn’t think, that is,” Raphael began to stammer, but Luvander just rolled his eyes, stepped forward, and kissed him full on the mouth. He was significantly taller than Raphael, and had to hunch over just a bit to properly reach. He pulled away after a moment, sighing softly. “I know exactly what you didn’t think. It’s a bit late to care about what the others would say, don’t you agree?”

Raphael pulled away just the tiniest bit, but tangled his hand in the front of Luvander’s shirt so that he didn’t get the wrong impression. He gulped twice before accepting that the lump in his throat was nerves, and wouldn’t be banished. “It wasn’t that. I just- If you had those intentions, you could have at least made me dinner first.” Levity was the default for them both in times of urgency, and Raphael rather thought this moment qualified.

“I have made you dinner,” Luvander noted. “Several times. I made you scones yesterday.”

Raphael lifted an eyebrow. “Were those sex scones?”

“I think they were pretty fucking sexy.” Then they were both fighting back giggles, staring at each other in the dark. Raphael pressed his forehead to Luvander’s chest and sighed, still grinning. “Okay,” he murmured. “Okay. Do you want to try again?” Luvander’s hands pressed against his back, delightfully warm and soothing.

“I very much do,” the taller man whispered into his hair. “Lay down. And do try not to fall off, this time?” Luv got a poke in the belly for that, but Raphael complied anyway, laying on his back with one of the delightfully embroidered throw pillows (a gift from Balfour- Don’t fucking think about Balfour right now, fucking hell-) under his head, and watched Luvander straddle his thighs, nothing more than a tall velvet shadow backlit by the dimly lit window. There was nothing in the world that could have prepared Raphael for the warm weight of Luvander leaning down, hands sliding up Raphael’s shirt with the clear intention of tugging it off. With Raphael’s participation they got it over his head, and Luvander’s hands tangled in it, keeping his wrists pinned above his head as they kissed once more.

The kiss was slow, and this time it was Luvander who made the first sound, a sort of appreciative hum that sent a thrill to Raphael’s toes. “You want to be touched, right?” Their lips were still touching as the question was asked, Luvander’s hands dragging down to Raphael’s shoulders and then to his chest. “That’s what you’ve been missing?” “Well…” “Mmm, and the other thing, I know.” His lips kissed their way down Raphael’s jaw in a distractingly pleasant way, dancing around the mess of scars below his lips, breath warm against his skin. The feel of lips on his neck had always been something that reduced Raphael to a quivering mess faster than anything else, so he was both glad and disappointed when Luvander pulled away before finding out that particular weakness.

As Luvander sat up and caressed his chest and ribs, Raphael arched his back and tilted his head up. “Do you want me to stay like this?” He asked, casting a teasingly sultry look up at Luvander, hands remaining above his head and tangled in his shirt. Luvander tilted his head and considered. “Hmmm…” Barely seen in the shadows was a half-smile; Raphael knew the man well enough to know just how predatory it was on him, and huffed out a soft laugh.

“Pervert,” Raphael said softly, without malice.

“We could stop,” Luvander teased back.

Neither of them wanted to stop. Luvander continued his exploratory caressing, fingertips curving just slightly so his blunt nails could drag along the slight swell of Raphael’s ribs, eliciting a soft gasp. There is was, that thrill of danger that had been missing in his life. How exciting that it could be found again.

“Will you be comfortable,” Luvander asked, working on unfastening Raphael’s trousers, “If I take my clothes off as well?” He must have seen the look Raphael gave him, because he chuckled. “Don’t worry, I don’t intend to molest you any further than you explicitly ask me to.” His far-too-clever fingers pulled Raphael out from the v of his open fly and started stroking him with one hand, long fingers wrapped around him and his thumb rubbing up to the tip. “I merely want to know,” he continued in a rather too smug voice “because I’d rather like to be naked with you, but I also don’t want to make you fall off the couch again.”

Raphael replied with a soft whine, eyes squeezed shut. Up until the moment Luvander started stroking his dick, he hadn’t yet been fully hard, lulled into comfort and a softer kind of arousal by all the intimate touching and teasing going on above the waist. Now, however, there was already moisture welling up at the tip, rubbed off by Luvander’s _fucking_ thumb. It had been a really, really long time since any hands but his own had touched him and apparently that reduced him to the fucking self-control he’d had at fifteen, hard within a minute and undoubtedly ready to pop before either of them could begin to enjoy themselves. It was really only Luvander letting go that let him remember how to make words again.

“In my own defense,” he began, opening his eyes to make a sad attempt at protest. Luvander had the tip of his own thumb in his mouth, looking at Raphael with that damned predatory smile.

His thumb.

The one that had been touching Raphael’s dick.

Whoop, there went his words again.

“You have no defenses,” Luvander gloated.

“Take your fucking shirt off,” Raphael trembled. Luvander laughed and leaned down, kissing him harder than before, both hands tangling in Raphael’s curls and _pulling_ , oh gods. His hips shifted closer and suddenly there was this incredible friction, Luvander moving his hips up and down Raphael’s in a very fucking suggestive motion that had Raphael throbbing in a very short time. It didn’t help, of course, that Luvander was an incredibly aggressive kisser, in turns invading Raphael’s mouth with his tongue and pulling back to bite his lower tip, tugging it just the tiniest bit with his teeth. There would be bruises tomorrow, but Raphael couldn’t bring himself to care.

Enough was enough, and Raphael tossed his own shirt on the floor behind the couch, helping Luvander tug his shirt off since the man was clearly distracted with other things and not able to see to the task himself. He made a point to toss the shirt in as messy a heap as possible, enjoying the tiny sound of disgust Luvander made at his manners, knowing they were both too distracted to make a fuss but he would catch hell later. To keep Luvander distracted, Raphael ran his hands up Luvander’s arms and shoulders, down his back, trying to copy that perfect appreciative hum that Luvander could pull off so well. In revenge, the blonde kissed down his jaw again, sucking on Raphael’s throat with careless disregard for what marks he was leaving.

Oh well, Raphael thought, somewhere in the tiniest part of his brain that wasn’t lighting up with pleasure and arousal; that was what scarves were for.

“Fuck,” he heard himself mutter. “Fuck, fuck, Luvander, stop, fuck-“

Luvander pulled back abruptly, breathing hard. He sat up, scooting back down onto Raphael’s thighs, running his hands through his hair and discarding the little ribbon that hadn’t really been successful in tying it back anymore anyway. “Okay,” he said, holding on to the back of the couch and his own thigh, breathing hard. “Okay, we can stop. Are you all right?” Raphael just blinked at him, feeling very confused and overwhelmed and incredibly needy. He reached over and grabbed Luvander’s hand, the one on his thigh, holding tight.

“I don’t want to come yet,” he whispered, impressed with how his voice stayed steady despite how frayed he really was. “Can I just…” He touched Luvander’s abdomen, fingers running along the top of his trousers above the fly. Luvander kept his hands on top of Raphael’s but didn’t stop him.

“If you would like to make this about me, I certainly won’t complain,” Luvander’s voice was just a shade too high, the tension around his eyes giving him away. “It’s not just you, you know- who hasn’t, um.” He waved one hand in lazy circles in the air, the other still clasped loosely onto Raphael’s. “Running a shop takes rather a lot of my time.”

“Funny,” Raphael said, working to undo Luvander’s fly, affection spreading like warmth through his chest. “You seem to have a lot of free time to spend with me.” He glanced up, meeting Luvander’s offended and alarmed expression with a rather wicked grin. He relished the slight change in expression as his knuckles grazed what lay just inside.

“Get up,” Luvander commanded. He grabbed Raphael’s wrists and pulled, ineffectual until Raphael rolled his eyes and allowed himself to be moved. “Sit,” came another command, “Sit back here, I want- here-” Luvander stood up and shimmied out of his pants, tossing them onto the stack of boxes across the tiny office. He huffed and crawled into Raphael’s lap, pinning him to the couch and threading his fingers into Raphael’s hair. “I want to kiss you.” He did, crushing their lips together.

Raphael’s hands drifted over the shape of Luvander’s hips, skimming until they settled lightly just above the jut of his pelvis. He rubbed slowly up and down, pulling him closer without breaking the kiss. Luvander complied and then reached between them, taking both dicks in one hand and taking care of them both at once. Raphael’s hips jerked and he gasped raggedly, fingers digging into Luvander’s lower back and toes curling on the floor. His nails were bitten on the edges but just long enough to leave scratches on Luv’s back.

Words between them faded into heavy breathing. Luvander broke the kiss and buried his head into the crook of Raphael’s neck, moving his hips for more delicious friction. Raphael tilted his head back and whined, pushing his hips up into Luvander’s hand. There was some semblance of a rhythm for a moment, but when Luvander started whispering filthy encouragement into Raphael’s ear, he fell apart and came, almost sobbing from the sheer force of it. He was distantly aware of how loud he was being, and of Luvander’s breath hitching as his hand sped up; there was a second splash of warmth between them a minute or so later.

Neither moved for a long while, Luvander draped bonelessly over Raphael in blissful exhaustion and Raphael only moving his feet to roll them in the blanket so that they wouldn’t leech warmth to the floor anymore. The sky outside was still dark, but in the winter months, it wouldn’t get light until close to noon anyway. That left Raphael in a timeless void; nothing existed but him and Luvander, and if they didn’t move now, they would fall asleep glued together and have a rather unpleasant morning. It would almost be worth it.

Raphael pushed Luvander, gently, to the side and got up. He stumbled over and felt for the kettle, filling it with water and setting it to heat. Then he felt around for his shirt, crawling methodically behind the couch in a pleasant thoughtless haze.

“What are you doing,” Luvander grumped, laying out on the couch and shimmying the blanket out from under himself.

“I don’t have a shower,” Raphael took the kettle before it boiled and poured warm water on his shirt. “I’m assigning you a mission, later, to go and fetch me a change of clothes.” Ignoring Luvander’s protests, he mopped them both up, grinning when Luvander hissed like a goose at the rapidly-cooling makeshift rag.

“Later,” Luvander promised, too fatigued for witty banter. He grabbed the rag, hurled it to the far wall, and pulled Raphael back down to the couch. They twined like lovers under the blanket.

“By the by,” Luvander murmured into Raphael’s hair, just before they drifted off. “I’m bringing the boys over tomorrow and we are going to decorate this place to within an inch of its life.”

Raphael sighed and pulled the blanket closer, holding Luvander’s hand under it. “If you say so.”


End file.
